


Cry

by thewildwilds



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, B-Movies, Bullying, Epilogue, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Halloween, High School, Kuzupeko - Freeform, Revenge, Second Chances, Teenagers, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8436487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewildwilds/pseuds/thewildwilds
Summary: Hajime Hinata is the new kid in town, recently transferred after a messy divorce between his parents. On Halloween night, he and his new classmates decide to go into the woods for a spooky night of ghost stories, but the kids may get more than what they bargained for, and nobody can keep running forever. AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> Unbeta'd due to time constraints, all mistakes are my own.

The rumbling of the bus and the steady rolling of the tires along the asphalt road are a soothing sort of white noise as Hajime tries to keep himself from dozing in his seat. He sits at the back of the bus with his backpack in his lap. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to take up as little space as possible. He’s one of only four other people on the bus, including the driver. The other two are a tipsy university student dressed as a vampire probably on his way home from a Halloween party and a middle-aged salaryman most certainly stuck working too many hours of overtime. He could drape himself all along the back seats if he wanted and weren’t so afraid of the bus driver giving him a stern look through his rear view mirror.

The sound of his phone ringing startles him out of his thoughts. Hajime digs it out of the front pocket of his backpack and peers at the screen. _Ayame Hinata._ His sister is calling.

He pokes the little answer button and holds the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Hi to you too.”

Something like a cross between a snort and a sigh carries through the phone and he can just picture Ayame pinching the bridge of her nose the way she does when she’s annoyed.

“I’m on the bus. I’m meeting up with some friends from school.”

“This late at night? Shouldn’t you be helping us unpack the rest of the boxes? You still haven’t even unpacked most of the things in your room. I’m looking at the boxes right now.”

Hajime shrugs even though he knows his sister can’t see it and moves his backpack onto the empty seat next to him. “Why should I worry about that? It’s Halloween. I deserve to have some time to relax.”

“It’s been two weeks since you and dad moved here. I know you weren’t all that happy about the move, but you can’t just live like this. You have to take some responsibility around here too, you know.”

He rolls his eyes. Even if Ayame is six years his elder, graduated from university, and happily living on her own, he hates when she treats him like a kid. “I’ll get to it, okay? I just haven’t had the time. I’ve had a lot of coursework to catch up on. It’s exhausting.”

There’s a sound on the other end like something shifting across the floor. It sounds as though Ayame is going through some of the unpacked boxes. (Maybe if he’s lucky, his sister will do all the unpacking for him.) “Hajime, I get the feeling you’re avoiding us or something. I don’t know what your deal is, but dad says you haven’t talked to him in weeks. Heaven knows that you barely talk to _me_ unless I’m calling for you. Have you even talked to mom at all?”

“Mom’s not _here._ She’s back in Tokyo,” he snaps and quickly remembers to lower his voice when the salaryman shoots him a disapproving look.

“Hajime, I’m serious. You just run off on your own and do your own thing. You know if there’s anything bothering you, you can talk to me about it. I’m your sister. I’ve had to deal with my own stuff too when I was your age, I can understand.”

There she goes again, making every problem about her, like she can’t even fathom that he’s grappling with his own issues. It’s not only irritating, it’s grating. Before he can properly gather up his thoughts, he finds himself saying, “Why do you care? You don’t even live with us anymore. It’s not like your opinion matters in the end.”

Ayame goes silent. The call is quiet for a long moment and he knows he’s struck a cord. He thinks of apologizing, but he also thinks of the bitter pieces of his broken family, and the apology dies on his tongue. Hajime leans his head back against the too-short bus seat, ignoring the way it awkwardly pulls at his neck, and sighs. “Listen. I don’t really want to get into this right now. It’s late, and it’s Halloween night. I’m just want to have some fun, make new friends. You should be happy for me.”

More silence. And then: “Fine. Don’t stay out too late.”

He jabs at the “end call” button on the screen and tosses his phone on top of his backpack. He doesn’t even bother to say goodbye.

 

* * *

 

His stop is at the very end of the line. Hajime steps off the bus onto the empty road. As the bus rolls away, he catches a glimpse of the LED sign switching from its standard “Hope’s Peak City Line” message to one that says “Not in Service.”

The road is scantly lit with only a few street lamps dotting around. His classmates said to follow along the road until he came across an old wooden sign (of which he cannot read due to weather). There’s a large blue van parked in the dirt. Everybody else must already be here. Feeling an itch of curiosity, Hajime digs out the flashlight from his backpack and shines it through the windshield. It’s an older model car, large enough to seat seven or eight people, with slightly fading leather seats and a little charm dangling from the rear view mirror. The seats are bare except for a jacket draped across the back and an old crumpled receipt on the passenger side. The contents of the van don’t immediately give him any hints to the owner.

He starts down the dirt path into the woods, using his flashlight to guide the way. The invitation to come join them out in the wilderness for Halloween ghost storytelling had come as a surprise, but he had graciously accepted if only as a desperate act of fitting in. Tests of courage were popular back at his old high school, even though he never got to participate in one. A night of ghost stories isn’t exactly how he thought he’d be bonding with his classmates, but as the new kid in town, he’ll take what he can get.

Hajime stops in his tracks and looks behind him. He doesn’t know why—maybe it’s the darkness or the occasion or a combination of both—but he has the distinct feeling he’s being watched… It’s hard to describe, but it just _feels_ like there are eyes on him, out there, somewhere. Gooseflesh arises upon his arms. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and a solitary shiver races up his spine. He shines the flashlight around, but all he sees are trees and bushes.

“Hello?” he calls cautiously. “Is anybody there?”

Silence.

He swallows and mentally curses himself for thinking to come here alone instead of being accompanied by one of his classmates. Why couldn’t he have asked to go with somebody? If he disappears now due to some wild forest animal or a crazed stalker, nobody will ever know.

A noise like a twig snapping makes him jump in his skin. He points his flashlight in the direction of the noise and holds his breath. That’s _definitely_ the sound of footsteps he’s hearing, and whoever—or whatever—it is, it’s coming closer… and closer… He tenses. He doesn’t have a plan, nor a weapon nor anything to defend himself. All he can do is brace himself for whatever is about to pop out at him—

—The bushes part, revealing a grinning Mahiru Koizumi. “Hinata! I thought I saw you there.”

Immediately, his tension melts away into relief. “Koizumi, you scared me!” he breathes, one hand slapped over his still-racing heart.

“Sorry! I thought you saw me too, but I guess it’s too dark to really see.” Mahiru smiles sheepishly and he can’t help but return it. Even if she gave him a fright, it’s so much better to see a friendly face right now. “Everybody else is waiting, we already started a campfire. Come on, I’ll show you the way. Besides, it’s better for a man to escort a lady out in the wilderness.” She fixes him a serious stare and points a finger at his face. “Just don’t do anything fishy, got it?”

Together, they travel down the path to the night’s ghost storytelling site. Mahiru asks how he’s liking school so far, if he’s having an easy time making friends or if the coursework has been difficult. He answers to the best of his abilities (school’s good, everyone’s nice, and he’s having trouble with English but he always has so it’s nothing new) and resolutely avoids any mention of his home life.

There’s a bright yellow light shining through the trees, no doubt where the others are. He can make out some silhouettes as they draw nearer. One of the silhouettes notices them and waves merrily. “Hajime, is that you? Over he-eeere!”

Stepping into the clearing, Hajime spots Ibuki Mioda, Kazuichi Souda, Hiyoko Saionji, and Nagito Komaeda all crowded around the makeshift campfire. Kazuichi lounges against an overturned log and yawns, briefly giving Hajime a view of his shark-like teeth. Hiyoko seems to be poking at the dirt with her finger (“Squish squish!” she chirps every so often) while Nagito and Ibuki roast marshmallows over the flame. Ibuki, the one who was waving, leaps up from her seat and hurries over to greet him with a signature Ibuki Mioda hug.

“Hinata, it’s good to see you made it here safely,” Nagito says, smiling, just as his marshmallow slides clear off his skewer. “Ah!” He makes an aborted attempted at catching it, but yanks his hand back when the flames lick along his palm. He stares forlornly at his ruined treat burning in the fire. “What rotten luck…”

“Big Sis Mahiru, where’d you run off to?” Hiyoko quips. “I was getting really worried that some forest monster gobbled you up or something!”

Hajime shoots Mahiru a curious look. “Huh? Koizumi, I thought you just arrived?”

“Oh! Did I say that? No, I came with everyone else, I just went back to the van to grab something.” She holds up her camera to illustrate.

An irritated voice pipes up near the bushes, “Are we going to start this stupid thing or what? The new kid’s here, fuckin’ finally, let’s just get this over with already.” Off in the shadows stands probably the last person he’d ever want to see. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu is by far the prickliest of his new classmates, and the one Hajime gets along with the least. Like most moody boys his age, his expression comes in two forms: smirk or scowl, and right now he’s wearing the latter.

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Hajime whispers to Ibuki, clearly displeased.

Ibuki’s grin is a cross between amused and apologetic. “We needed a driver. Kazuichi’s grounded from driving and Fuyuhiko’s the only other one with a big enough car.”

Hajime tries to picture Fuyuhiko—easily the shortest boy of the bunch—driving a soccer mom van like the one he saw parked on the side of the road. The word “booster seat” pops up in his head unbidden and he barely stifles a laugh.

Fuyuhiko seems to sense his change in mood. “You got something to say, fucker?”

“Nope,” he answers, popping the “P.”

Ibuki ushers everyone over to their seats to start their night of spooky stories. Hajime tucks his backpack against his side and settles down onto an unoccupied stump next to Mahiru, thanking her with a nod when she passes him the bag of marshmallows.

Two stories in and he’s already starting to regret his decision to come.

“… Everyone turned around and that’s when they saw… _THE EMERGENCY PARKING BRAKE WAS LEFT ON_ _.”_ Kazuichi shrieks at his own story, waving the flashlight around like a maniac, but his efforts are met with silence and unimpressed looks.

“This is so lame!” Hiyoko whines, kicking her heels back and forth against the hard-packed dirt. “I thought we were going to tell _scary_ stories! All of these have been super duper lame! I might as well be getting free candy door-to-door!”

“It can’t be helped. Souda’s talent isn’t in storytelling, after-all,” Nagito says woefully. “Although somebody as worthless as me wasn’t able to do much better.”

“Hey! It wasn’t that bad… Was it?”

Everyone seems to be at a consensus. Mahiru looks disenchanted, Fuyuhiko looks pissed (but when doesn’t he look pissed?), and even Hajime has to admit the night has been rather disappointing so far.

Ibuki abruptly snatches the flashlight from Kazuichi’s hands. “Well, you better grab ahold of a belt, Hiyoko, because Ibuki’s about to scare your pants off!”

There are a variety of murmurs echoing around the crew; Hiyoko mutters a few more complaints under her breath, Nagito remarks how surely _this_ story will fill them hope, and Kazuichi crossly shoves a whole marshmallow in his mouth. Ibuki doesn’t let any of that affect her, patiently waiting for everyone to settle down before she holds up the flashlight beneath her chin. The shadows contour her cheekbones and eyes harshly.

“Have any of you ever heard the story of Crying Peko-chan?” she drones in a low, very un-Ibuki-like voice. The rest of the group exchange wary glances, but nobody answers. Ibuki makes a solemn noise in the back of her throat, like she thinks they’ve all made a grave mistake for choosing to be so ignorant. It’s clear that Ibuki is hamming up her performance, but Hajime already feels the earlier levity evaporating away with that one thoughtful sound.

“Peko-chan was a strange little girl who used to live in this very town. She had pale, sickly skin, and abnormally white hair, and these super creepy red eyes like you might see on a demon child. Everywhere she went, people stared. The other school kids especially loved to bully her. They called her a monster, a freak, but it wasn’t just her looks that creeped them out; it was her attitude. She was like a statue. She never smiled, or frowned, or showed any sort of emotion, as though all her feelings had been scooped out. No matter how much the kids bullied her, she did not cry. It became their personal mission to see her tears.”

Ibuki pauses for dramatic effect, and Hajime takes the moment to look around the circle. Everyone is silent, listening in rapt attention. Even Hiyoko keeps quiet, clutching onto her bag of gummies.

“One dark and stormy night these kids chased her all the way to a cave in the woods, much like the woods we’re in right now. One of those really craggy caves too, pits and rocks everywhere. They tortured her, did the most atrocious things just to get her to cry. They threw rocks at her, and still she did not cry. They pulled her hair, dug under her fingernails, and still she did not cry. They stuffed dirt in her mouth, yanked out her eyelashes, cut up her face with sharp stones, and _still_ she did not cry.

“It was then that Peko-chan decided she had enough and tried to fight back against her bullies, but the cave they were in had this pit with all these jagged rocks at the bottom. In the scuffle, she tripped and fell over the ledge, _impaling_ herself on the rocks below. Blood spurt everywhere. Horrified, the bullies all stared down at her body as she hung like a lifeless doll on those rocks. She bled a slow and agonizing death, and they finally got to see Peko-chan cry for the first time.

“The police ruled it an accident, so the kids were never punished. But in recent years, there have been reports that the people who bullied her were suddenly killed in mysterious accidents, one… after… another…

“They say on dark Halloween nights like these, if you listen really really carefully, sometimes you can hear the sound of her weeping… But don’t just take _my_ word for it. You guys know upperclassman Seiko Kimura? She’s heard the sound of crying when nobody else was around. She says she hears that sound in her nightmares sometimes. That’s why she’s always looking over her shoulder nowadays. Not only that, but many people have spotted the ghost of Peko-chan wandering around. But watch out. She doesn’t _want_ anyone to see her crying, so if you hear her, make sure you _don’t_ make eye contact. Because if you do… it may be the last. Thing. You ever. See…

“What does she do to her victims, you ask? Well nobody knows for sure. Anyone who’s seen her cry has never lived to tell the tale. Some say she slashes up your face until you’re unrecognizable. Some say she feasts on your heart while it’s still beating in your chest. Some say she drives you insane and forces you to kill yourself. One thing’s for sure: if you ever see those demon eyes of hers, she will never… _ever…_ be satisfied until you’re _dead…”_

Hajime suddenly hears the whoosh of wind and a sharp, solid _THUD_ somewhere to his left. It startles him so much he screams. He’s not the only one; Mahiru screams too and Kazuichi lets out an undignified screech as he clings to Hiyoko for protection. (She promptly shoves him away.) It’s only when the group settles down again do they see Fuyuhiko was the one who made the noise. He’s on his feet, eyes narrowed, fists clenched as his sides.

“What the hell, Kuzuryuu?!”

“Seriously! You scared us half to death!”

“I don’t like this story,” Fuyuhiko hisses through gritted teeth.

“What? It’s just a story. You’re not scared, are you? Aren’t you supposed to be a man?” Mahiru scoffs.

“I _said._ I don’t like this story,” he repeats, looking no less upset.

Hajime exchanges a confused look with Ibuki.

“What’s the big deal?” Hiyoko huffs, crossing her arms. “The night was finally getting good and we have to stop just because Kuzuryuu can’t handle it?”

“Perhaps that may be the best course of action,” hums Nagito. “Souda looks as though he’s about to soil himself.”

“Listen! Little girl ghosts are the _worst,_ okay?!”

Nagito shrugs. “Ahhh, what a mood killer.”

“It was a good story, Mioda,” Hajime tries to placate. “Best all night, really. I got goosebumps all over.”

“Awww, thanks, Hajime!” Ibuki chirps, passing him the flashlight. “But I didn’t make it up myself. I really did hear it from somebody else, although I don’t really remember where, even though my memory is usually really good. An online forum or something? 2channel? Either way, it gave Ibuki chills, so she decided to share it with everyone!”

He nods and starts to say that he’d like to hear more stories from her, but something else catches his attention entirely.

The distant sound of weeping.

His heart skips a beat.

“Seriously, Kuzuryuu, are you _crying_ now?!” Hiyoko barks. “That’s so disgusting! Picking this place was _your_ idea, you know.”

“The hell? Does it look like I’m crying?”

“Guys…” Ibuki murmurs, pointing a trembling finger towards the trees. “Look over there…”

Hajime looks and he wishes he hadn’t. Off in the distance is what appears to be a little girl walking back and forth amongst the trees. She’s dressed in a white kimono, no other colors or patterns, just solid white, a pale spot in the darkness. In fact, it looks as though she is entirely white from head to toe, from her alarmingly pallid skin down to her silvery hair. She has her face in her hands, body wracked with sobs. He wonders how somebody could walk around at this time of night with her face covered, let alone a single little girl.

He looks around the circle, silently pleading for an explanation, but the looks on everybody’s faces tell him he won’t be getting a good answer.

“Is that—?!” Mahiru strains.

“It can’t be… Crying Peko-chan…?!”

“This is an interesting development…”

“I-It can’t be, right?” Hajime sputters, trying to form some sort of logical explanation for this. She’s just a lost little girl… out in the woods… in the middle of the night… She’s crying because she needs help and perhaps they should actually go and help her but even the thought of approaching the little girl makes his heart sink to his feet.

“Don’t make eye contact! Don’t make eye contact!” Kazuichi screeches, yanking his beanie over his eyes. Automatically Hajime slams his eyes shut too, even though he knows he must look ridiculous, even though a part of him doesn’t want to believe this is actually happening, _he just can’t risk it._

“Are you guys being serious right now?”

When Hajime peeks his eyes open again, he sees Hiyoko is on her feet, hands firmly planted on her hips. “It’s just another one of Ibuki’s stupid Halloween pranks. It’s so obvious.”

“But I swear that’s not me!” Ibuki squeaks.

“Yeah, right. She does this every year, guys, come on. Don’t you remember how she told that story about a werewolf and got Mitarai to make those stupid animation just to scare us? Hey! Who is it over there? Is that you, Pig Barf? Get over here so I can punish you for real. Hello-oooo?”

The little girl stops, lifts her face up, and looks in their direction. She’s too far away to clearly make out her features, but there seems to be something red on her face. Blood? Is she hurt?

_Or something much worse?_

“Did you hear me? You over there! I said get over here right now!”

The little girl jolts and convulses, her head spasming faster than humanly possible like a movie running at the wrong frame rate, and it’s then that Hajime is sure that something is _wrong_ _._ “Saionji, no!” he croaks, reaching for her. The little girl starts at them slowly but her feet don’t seem move, _like she’s floating._ She blinks in and out of sight as if she’s on a radio signal set at a bad frequency.

The next second she’s nose to nose with Hiyoko.

“Oh—” Hiyoko breathes.

The little girl makes a sound in the back of her throat like a cross between a sob and a growl. In one fluid motion she fists her hands around the front of Hiyoko’s blouse and _sinks,_ and as she does, she drags Hiyoko down with her straight through the solid ground. Hiyoko doesn’t even have the time to scream, phasing through the dirt from her head to her feet.

She disappears without a trace left behind.

Somebody screams, and he’s not sure who. (Maybe it’s him.)

_**“RUN!!”** _

Hajime barely has enough time to remember to grab his flashlight and backpack as he darts off through the trees. He hears the thunderous footsteps of his classmates right behind him, everyone struggling to keep up with one another. He doesn’t dare look behind him for fear of making eye contact with the ghost of what he now knows is Crying Peko-chan.

“Mioda, why’d you have to tell that stupid story?! Now we’re going to die! We’re all going to die!! I knew this was a bad idea!!”

“But it’s just a story! Besides which, you have to summon her for Crying Peko-chan to appear!”

“Summon?” Fuyuhiko squawks. “You didn’t say anything about a summoning!”

“Well it’s not like somebody could _accidentally_ summon her! You have to write ‘Peko-chan, show me your eyes’ on a wall while chanting it out loud three times!”

“ _Ah—!”_

Hajime thinks he hears somebody stumbling and falling upon the dirt. He tries to look over his shoulder to see who it was, but somebody else collides powerfully with his back, forcing him to keep on running. He doesn’t know how long they run for or where they’re going, but by some stroke of luck, they manage to make it back to Fuyuhiko’s van still parked near the side of the road. His legs feel like jelly and his heart is hammering in his chest. “Guys, wait! I think we’re safe!” he pants, hands on his knees as he struggles to catch his breath. Kazuichi actually throws himself at the van and kisses it, to which Fuyuhiko shoves him out of the way.

“We have to get out of here,” Fuyuhiko wheezes as he clumsily fishes his keys from his pocket.

“Wait,” Hajime says, scanning the crew and filling with dread. Kazuichi, Nagito, Fuyuhiko…

“Where are Koizumi and Mioda?!”

 

* * *

 

Mahiru sniffles as she inspects the ugly scrape on her knee. It’s red and bleeding in places. Normally a scratch like this would hardly faze her, but the combination of the pain, the adrenaline, and the frightful sight of Hiyoko being literally spirited away has her on edge.

“Is anything broken?” Ibuki asks.

“No, I don’t think so. It just hurts.” She touches a finger against the scrape and hisses. She can wipe away the dirt, but for now she’ll just have to deal. “Ibuki, where did the guys go?”

Ibuki glances over the bushes they’re hiding behind and cups a hand around her ear. “Hmmmmm… I don’t know. I don’t hear them screaming anymore. And Ibuki’s phone has been on the fritz too so we can’t call them.” She seems to sense the fear and anxiety radiating off her friend and offers Mahiru a bright smile. “Don’t worry, Mahiru! I’m sure they’re waiting for us by the car! Besides, Kazuichi’s sure to start screaming any moment now, and Ibuki’s super-sensitive hearing will pick it up right away!”

“But what about Hiyoko?” she asks quietly. She can’t ever forget that sight, those pale white hands pulling Hiyoko through solid ground like she were dragging her down to hell—

“We’ll find her for sure!” Ibuki says, pumping her fist in the air.

Mahiru sighs, staring down at her hands. “I can’t believe you’re so calm right now when we just saw a ghost.”

Ibuki grins and puffs up her chest looking like a cat that’s caught the canary. “Ibuki won’t go down that easily just because of some ghost! I’m the plucky sidekick of the story, they need me to keep the atmosphere light!”

 _That_ startles a laugh out of her. While Ibuki’s endless optimism may be grating to some, she’s glad she has her here now. “I don’t really know who ‘they’ are. But you really do make me feel a lot better.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ibuki cheers, helping Mahiru to her feet. “Ibuki will stay right here to protect you! Now let’s go and find the others!” Like some sort of brave fool storming onto the battlefield while being vastly outnumbered, she marches backwards into the open, making sure Mahiru is well within her sights.

Mahiru lets out another breathless laugh at the ridiculousness of her friend. With the tender pain still shooting down her leg, it’s going to make running a bit difficult. But maybe she won’t need to as long as they’re careful on the way to the van. She’s about to follow after Ibuki through the trees, but her shivering voice and shocked face stops her in her tracks.

“Mahiru…?”

“What?”

“… Are you behind me right now?”

“No… I’m right in front of you. You can still see me. Why…?”

Ibuki trembles and frantically gestures with her eyes as if to say, _Look behind me._ She leans over a bit to see. Just over Ibuki’s shoulder, Mahiru can make out the strands of somebody with abnormally white hair. A small white hand slowly reaches out towards them.

Mahiru sucks in a breath and _shrieks._

 

* * *

 

Hajime looks up sharply. “Did you guys hear that?” Nagito also looks up from his phone, eyebrows quirked. (No reception, they’ve discovered. Not on any of their phones.) He looks back to the guys, whose faces all reflect a mixture of anxiety and wariness. “That’s probably Koizumi and Mioda. We have to go back for them!”

“Go _back?!”_ Fuyuhiko scoffs. “Are you crazy? The _smart_ thing to do would be to save our own skins before we all die!”

Kazuichi nods like his neck is made of rubber. “For once, I agree with Kuzuryuu. They’ll catch up. We gotta get out of here now or we’re all dead meat.”

“That _is_ the most logical way of looking at it,” Nagito hums, placing his cell phone back into his coat pocket. “Only those worthy of survival shall emerge from the darkness victorious and full of hope.”

Kazuichi glares at Nagito. “You know, you’ve always said some weird things in the past, but that attitude of yours is really starting to piss me off!”

“Oh? But weren’t you also agreeing with Kuzuryuu just a second ago?”

“Well— Yeah, but— You didn’t have to put it like _that!”_ Kazuichi sputters.

“Guys, we can’t just leave the girls behind!” Hajime presses, throwing out his hands pleadingly. “What if they’re in trouble?”

“We’re _all_ in trouble! It’s like that bastard Komaeda said, survival of the fittest! It’s not my fault they couldn’t fuckin’ keep up!”

“Kuzuryuu, don’t be like that! Put yourself in their shoes. If you were hurt or lost, I’m sure Koizumi or Mioda would want to help you too.”

“You gotta be shitting me. You think I need anybody’s _help?_ You think I need _your_ help? I’m not some fuckin’ kid, okay? Now either get in the car or get the fuck out of my sight, because I’m getting out of here!” He practically rips open the driver side door and hastily climbs in.

“Kuzuryuu, wait—”

He’s reaching for Fuyuhiko, hoping to dissuade him from leaving the girls behind, but the sound of rustling startles him from that task. Hajime whips around, bracing himself for a ghost or a ghoul or any other variety of night terror to jump out at them. Instead, for the second time that night, Mahiru bursts through the bushes and all but runs into his arms.

“Koizumi!” he cries, feeling a flush of relief at seeing his classmate safe and sound.

“Hinata!” she answers, looking equally as relieved.

He looks back to the bushes, expecting to see Ibuki burst through the bushes as well, but as the seconds tick by, nobody comes. Hajime furrows his brows. “Where’s Mioda?”

Mahiru whirls around the way she came, eyes wide. “She was right behind me…” Her eyes dart around the trees and bushes, looking more and more panicked with each passing second. “W-We saw the ghost of Crying Peko-chan. Ibuki told me to run ahead because I got hurt. Sh-She said she would be right behind me. Did I leave her behind?! I— Oh god, I didn’t mean to…! I— Oh no!” She looks down at the camera still strapped around her neck. The lens is broken, spiderweb cracks on the glass. “My mom gave me this camera…” She lets out a frustrated scream and throws her hands over her face. _“Oh, is anything going right tonight?!”_

Hajime awkwardly pats Mahiru on the back, unable to think of what else to do. He never though he’d see reasonable, levelheaded Mahiru Koizumi break down like this. “Koizumi, calm down… You didn’t know she wasn’t behind you anymore… I’m sure Mioda is fine. Shhh, shhh…”

From inside the van comes a second frustrated yell. _“_ _Are you fuckin’ kidding me?!”_ Fuyuhiko screams, slamming his fists against the dashboard. The van momentarily rocks back and forth from the weight of his outburst. He climbs back out the van and slams the door shut behind him with far more force than necessary.

“What’s wrong?”

“The fuckin’ engine won’t start. I’ve tried it like a million times but it _just won’t start._ We can’t leave if it won’t start.”

“Hmmmm,” hums Nagito, stroking his chin. “Souda, can’t you fix the engine?”

“Wha— Oh, right!” Hurriedly, they pop open the hood, hope arising in their chests, and Kazuichi dives right in, but a few minutes later he emerges looking grim. “I can’t do anything.”

“What? Come on, I thought you were supposed to be the best mechanic around!”

“There’s nothing wrong with it! I can’t fix something that isn’t broken! What do you want me to do, break it even more? Then we’ll really be stuck!” He scrubs a hand over his face. “W-We can just take the bus or something back to town. Come back for the van in the morning. The bus stop is close by—”

“The buses don’t run this late. It’s past midnight by now.”

“Then we’ll walk!” Kazuichi screeches. “We have to do something!”

“Wait,” says Mahiru, looking serious and thoroughly recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We can’t leave without Hiyoko and Ibuki. I’m never going to forgive myself if I actually left them behind. We have to go back for them.”

Hajime nods. “Koizumi’s right. It should be the same for all of us. If we leave them here now, we’ll never be able to live with ourselves.”

Fuyuhiko makes a frustrated noise. “Are we still going over this? I can live with myself just _fine._ This isn’t the time to be playing hero. Peko’s out there trying to kill us!”

“What was that, Kuzuryuu?” Nagito asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You hard of hearing? I said _a ghost is trying to kill us!”_

“It’s not that. I just thought it was interesting how you called her by her name. It almost sounds as though you’re familiar with her somehow.”

Fuyuhiko seems to falter, tripping over his next words. “I just don’t like that stupid nickname, okay?! What’s the big deal anyway?!”

Kazuichi tugs on his hair. “Does it really matter what we call her right now? There’s a creepy little girl ghost that wants to drag us into hell and we’re just standing around like idiots!”

Mahiru crosses her arms and huffs, “I’m not leaving here until we find Hiyoko and Ibuki! They’re our friends!”

“Well _I’m_ not walking right into a ghost girl’s trap, car or not. Hell, I’ll go by foot back to town if I have to.”

“If _you_ want to be a coward and abandon our friends, then that’s your choice, but _I’m_ not going to!”

“Fine! It’s your funeral!”

“Fine!”

“ _Fine!!”_

Fuming, Kazuichi turns on his heel and stalks down the road.

“Souda, wait—!” Hajime stammers, reaching after him helplessly.

Mahiru marches off towards the trees, calling over her shoulder, “Hinata, are you coming with me?”

“I— Of course, I want to find Saionji and Mioda too, but— Should we really let Souda go alone? I don’t think splitting up is such a good idea.”

“He made his choice. What about you, Komaeda? Are you leaving with Souda?”

“I’m always on the side of hope. And right now, the hope of finding our friends shines so brightly.”

“I’m coming too,” Fuyuhiko pipes up. All eyes snap to him. “What? Don’t shit yourselves. I’m just not going anywhere with that pink-haired idiot!”

Hajime eyes him warily. One minute he’s talking about leaving the girls behind, and the next he’s tagging along to go find Hiyoko and Ibuki. Given the situation, perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised. For all his bravado and his insistence that he need not rely on anyone, he thinks Fuyuhiko is only trying to stick with the bigger group for his own safety. That just means one more body for Fuyuhiko to use as a shield between him and the ghost.

“But we shouldn’t—” Hajime looks back to the road. Kazuichi is a speck in the distance. He hates the idea of leaving somebody in the group alone with a ghost girl roaming around, but everybody else seems to have made up their minds already.

“Just leave him. At best, he’ll find somebody to go get help. We have to find Hiyoko and Ibuki before it’s too late!”

Reluctantly, he nods and trails after Mahiru as she delves back into the forest.


	2. Chapter 2

They wander around the woods for what seems like hours, cautiously calling out Hiyoko’s and Ibuki’s names. The woods are deep and dark and unfamiliar to all of them. Sometimes they hear a rustle in the trees or a twig snapping or perhaps an owl screeching, and they have to stop and gather their wits until they muster enough bravery go on again.

The sound that makes their blood run cold is the soft sound of sobbing.

“It’s the crying again. We have to leave—”

“Wait,” Fuyuhiko says. “That crying doesn’t sound like Peko.”

He wants to ask how he could possibly know the difference between a ghost and somebody else crying, but perhaps now isn’t the time. He swallows his fear and approaches the sound.

Ibuki is kneeling at the base of a tree, her back to them, clutching her head.

“Ibuki? Ibuki!!” Mahiru dashes straight up to her friend, arms outstretched, but Ibuki doesn’t turn around, doesn’t indicate that she heard them.

Something seems odd.

“Mioda?” Hajime repeats slowly.

Ibuki appears to be muttering something under her breath over and over again. She doesn’t sound happy either. She sounds frightened. As he draws closer, he can make out what she’s saying: “So much sorrow… So much sadness… So much sorrow… So much sadness…”

He grabs hold of her shoulder, spins her around, and finally gets a good look at her face. Her skin is pale and clammy and her eyes are distant, like she doesn’t see them, like she’s not really there. She stares at some unknown spot over his shoulder, muttering incoherently. Ibuki Mioda is somewhere far away.

“Something’s wrong with her,” Mahiru says slowly. “Ibuki would never act like this. How do we fix it?”

“I-I don’t know,” Hajime replies.

“What’s the big deal? We found her like you wanted, let’s just grab her and go!”

“But is it safe to move her? What if she snaps, or something, and ends up hurting herself?”

“Well we have to do something! We can’t just leave her here!”

As they bicker back and forth, Nagito seems to assess the situation, looking around the group and stroking his chin thoughtfully. In one fluid motion, he steps up to Ibuki, lifts his hand, and slaps her hard across the face. The harsh sound reverberates through the trees like a song on repeat.

Mahiru screams, horrified, and even Fuyuhiko looks a bit taken aback.

“Komaeda, what the hell?!” Hajime wails.

“Hmm? I thought you wanted Mioda back to normal?”

“Well, _not like that!”_

“Men aren’t supposed to hit women!”

He feels about ready to sock Nagito in the jaw for his stunt, but then Ibuki is fluttering her eyelashes, eyes focusing. “I think—” Ibuki gulps down a breath, “I think I’m okay now.”

“Ibuki!” Mahiru cries, wrapping her arms around her friend like she hasn’t seen her in years. Ibuki still looks a bit out of it, the red hand print on her cheek standing stark against her pale skin, but at least she’s coherent and responsive again.

“I’m so glad I could do something useful for once,” Nagito says smoothly.

Hajime sighs. “It may not have been the most orthodox method, but at least we have Mioda back. Now we just have to find Saionji.”

“Good luck with that,” Fuyuhiko snorts under his breath. “What are we gonna do, dig her out of the ground? She’s long gone by now.”

Hajime spins on Fuyuhiko, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted. “You know what, Kuzuryuu? I’m getting real sick of your rotten attitude. All you’ve done all night is complain. _You_ were the one who decided to join us, so either help us look or _shut up.”_

Fuyuhiko’s face is red as he glares daggers at him—and Hajime is fully prepared to get into yet another conflict for the umpteenth time that night—but miraculously he says nothing and simply folds his arms.

The wander aimlessly through the trees, calling Hiyoko’s name. Even though they all saw Hiyoko being pulled through solid ground, she may very well be in the same situation Ibuki was, trembling alone out in the woods somewhere. Not only that, but… Hajime looks back at Ibuki, who’s bringing up the tail end of the group. Normally Ibuki is excitable and full of energy, but right now she’s silent, staring at her shoes as she trudges along. Whatever she experienced, it’s clear that it’s changed her.

“Hinata, do you really think we’ll find Hiyoko too?” Mahiru asks at his side, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He purses his lips into a thin line. On the one hand, he wants to repeat everything that’s been spinning around in his head so he can just get it out in the open, but on the other hand, he doesn’t want to worry Mahiru with his negative thoughts, so what comes out of his mouth is, “Well, we shouldn’t give up hope, right?”

“Well said, Hinata. As expected of the symbol of our hope,” Nagito quips dreamily.

It doesn’t make him feel better. “R-Right…”

He stops in his tracks and thrusts his arm to the side, halting everyone from advancing any further.

“Hinata, what is it?” Mahiru asks.

“Hide,” he hisses under his breath. “Hide. _Hide.”_

Frantically he pushes everyone towards a clump of bushes and signals for them to be silent. Branches and thorns scrape against his skin but he ignores it as he cautiously peeks through the leaves. Crying Peko-chan drifts past with her face in her hands, her movements disjointed and restless. She phases in and out like she doesn’t know which plane she wants to stay in. The sound of her pitiful, broken sobs floats through the trees, an awful sort of melody. She’s so close. If he reached out right now, he could brush his fingers against the edge of her white kimono. At the back of his mind he hopes she can’t smell their fear.

Behind him, somebody inhales.

“H-Hey,” Fuyuhiko calls from the back. Hajime whirls around and shushes him sharply, but Fuyuhiko looks distressed. “I-It’s not me! Mioda’s going mental again!”

“She what?”

Sure enough, Ibuki’s eyes have gone distant again. She’s muttering something under her breath that Hajime has to strain to hear.

“There’s no stopping it…” Ibuki whispers, huddling in on herself, fingers going to her hair. “She’s coming. Once the sadness consumes you, you have to control it. Control. Control. Control…” She babbles nonsensically, clutching at the strands of her hair so hard Hajime is afraid she’ll actually tear it out. “Control control control control control control CONTROL CONTROL CONTROL CONTROL—”

“Somebody quiet her down!”

Fuyuhiko grabs her shoulders and shakes her roughly. “Hey! Snap out of it!”

With an astonishing burst of strength, Ibuki shoves Fuyuhiko away, screaming. Cursing, Fuyuhiko stumbles and falls hard on his back.

“No control… Have to control… SHE HAS TO CONTROL—”

In the shadows behind Ibuki appears a pale white face, silver hair covering her eyes. Her lips are curled in a grimace, or perhaps a macabre sort of smile. There are tear tracks on her cheeks, but they are crusted and ruddy. Peko-chan reaches out and grips Ibuki’s head, almost like a gentle caress, and with a strength unfitting of a little girl, pulls her straight into the darkness of the trees. Ibuki vanishes like hapless prey caught on the end of a line and her scream is but a distant, fading sound.

Mahiru shrieks her name, reaching out towards the darkness where Ibuki disappeared. Hajime has to physically stop her from going after her, in fear that she, too, will be taken away. He hears Fuyuhiko yell, “MOVE YOUR ASSES, BASTARDS!” and practically drags Mahiru by the wrist away from the entity that’s taken two of their friends.

Running seems to be the only thing he’s capable of doing. First Hiyoko, now Ibuki. The hopelessness starts to settle in. Crying Peko-chan is picking them off one by one. He doesn’t know what they can do, but they have to do something, whether it means surviving the night, or…

… or running away for eternity.

He spots an opening in the face of a rocky enclosure up ahead. A cave. “Through there!” he yells without thinking, ducking through the mouth of the cave. When he dares to look behind them, he sees nothing but the blackness of the night.

“Hinata, she _took_ Ibuki! She took her!”

“Yeah, no shit! I hate to say it but _I fuckin’ told you so._ We should’ve left when we had the chance.”

Hajime grits his teeth as he thinks about his lost friends. They’re gone, taken, and he couldn’t do anything to save them.

“Well, well… What do we have here?”

He turns to where Nagito is staring at the wall of the cave. Hajime shines his flashlight on the spot and immediately feels his stomach bottom out. Written along the wall in what he hopes is red paint are the words, _Peko-chan, show_ _me_ _your eyes._

“Aren’t those— Isn’t this what you need to summon Crying Peko-chan?!” Hajime stutters, eyes raking up and down the wall.

“But who would do such a thing…?”

“I… I don’t know.” He swallows the lump in his throat. _This doesn’t make sense,_ he thinks grimly. _She was actually summoned here for us_ _?_ He inspects the words closely, the way the paint slathers along the dilapidated rock. “… It doesn’t look very old. Like somebody did this recently,” Hajime murmurs, noting how the paint is solid where everything else is weathered.

“You saying one of _us_ summoned her?!” Fuyuhiko spits.

“I-I’m not saying anything!”

“No… I think Hinata may be right,” Nagito murmurs, trailing a finger over the red lettering. “You can see where the heavier spots are lumpy where the paint beneath hasn’t properly cured. See?” He pokes at one such spot and it comes away wet on his finger. “I would say it was painted within the last few hours.”

“No way… You can’t be serious…” another voice croaks.

They all spin around, flashlights pointing at the mouth of the cave. There stands Kazuichi, staring at the painted words with wide eyes.

“Souda! You’re okay!”

“I thought you went to get help?”

“That’s why I’m here! Something really weird is happening. No matter which way I go, I always end up back at the van. It’s like I’m going around in circles, but that’s impossible! It’s just a straight road! I even tried to cut across the grass and I _still_ ended up right back where I started! How could this be happening?!”

“Well, it’s simple, isn’t it?” Nagito says smoothly. “She doesn’t want us to leave. We saw her crying, and now she won’t let us go. She is the one in control of these woods.” For a boy who’s spent the night running around everywhere with a ghost girl closing in on them, Nagito is oddly collected. In fact, what he sees reflected in Nagito’s eyes fills him with a bone-chilling unease. It’s as though he’s _pleased_ with the way the night is progressing.

Kazuichi stomps over to Nagito and jabs a finger against his chest. “I bet it was _you_ who summoned her, wasn’t it?! You planned this whole thing all along! You’re always spouting all that weird crap about hope and stuff! No wonder you’re so calm!”

“Is that what I am? I’m sorry, I only thought at least one of us should stay calm in this sort of situation,” says Nagito. He casts his eyes to the cave ceiling and sighs. “Then again, I suppose it was presumptuous to believe trash like me could handle such an important responsibility.” His eyes scan around the group. “Speaking of which… Kuzuryuu, you’ve been awfully quiet since we got here.”

Fuyuhiko starts like he’s been lost in thought up until now. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

“No, only that your silence could be considered equally unusual behavior, don’t you think? Do you, perhaps, know something about the summoning?”

He grits his teeth. “Why would I know anything about that?! You’re the one who brought it up, shithead!”

“It was only an assumption based on your conduct. If I’m wrong, then it’s my mistake.”

Hajime hates this, this downward spiral into dissent. This was supposed to be a night of fun and instead everybody is at each others’ throats. If this continues on, he doesn’t how long he can keep everybody together. As he steps away from the group—just to take a breather because if he sticks around longer to hear them argue he thinks he’s going to scream—he hears the echoing sound of falling rock growing fainter and fainter. He turns around, shining his flashlight deeper into the cave, and feels the color drain from his face. “Guys…” Hajime calls.

“No, really, say that shit to my face again, asshole, and we’ll _see_ who knows what’s what.”

“There’s really no need to get so angry. You’ve all survived up until this point. I have confidence that those of us worthy will survive this ordeal.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Hiyoko and Ibuki were just lambs to the slaughter, is that it?” Mahiru pipes up, narrowing her eyes.

“You could say that.”

“ _Guys…”_

“How _dare_ you, Komaeda! I don’t care whether you… you did the summoning or not, but that is not how you talk about our friends as if they were just some… some _stepping stone!”_

“GUYS.”

Everyone finally falls silent and turns their attention to him. He directs them with his flashlight over to what he’s been staring at. “I think we’re in a really bad spot right now…” They all gather closer to get a better look. Deeper into the cave is a pit filled with sharp rocks, just like the one in Ibuki’s story. He can see where some of the spikes have been cleared away, as if to make a path to get to something in the center of the pit.

“You don’t think… then…”

“I think that’s exactly it… This must be where Crying Peko-chan died…”

Behind him, somebody screams. Kazuichi has collapsed back, manically pointing at the cave wall. “It just appeared on its own right in front of my eyes, I swear!! Something was writing it!!” Hajime shines his flashlight to where he’s pointing. The message has changed. Over the words _Peko-chan, show_ _me_ _your eyes_ are scrawled a frightening litany that fills him with dread.

_DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK DON’T—_

It is then that Hajime notices the cave growing foggier, mistier. A chill runs up his spine. The fog is coming from the pit like a natural force come to life. It rises in a heavy cloud, growing thicker and thicker. And then, he swears, it actually starts to _form_ something. Through the misty vapor forms a head, then a body, then a pair of hands. The ghost of Crying Peko-chan towers over them, easily fifty times larger than any human girl, but what he _feels_ strikes him more than what he sees. Sorrow. Unrelenting sorrow, heavier than any sadness he’s ever known before. It’s like he’s in a trance, every happy memory draining away as he stares at the massive ghostly figure looming over them. The blood running down her cheeks are like waterfalls, terrible and mesmerizing. She opens her mouth so wide it looks as though her jaw unhinges and out comes a cacophonous wail unlike anything he’s ever heard before, like an earth-shattering shriek, like a blaring siren, like fingernails scraping against metal. Beneath the heavy blanket of sorrow fogging his mind, Hajime manages to utter one word.

“Run…”

He’s not fully aware of what his body is doing anymore, but somehow his feet carry him out the cave, back into the woods, and he can only hope that everybody is following behind him instead of stuck in that trance-like state. This time instead of just the pounding of feet and their hoarse screams, he can hear Peko-chan behind them, closing in on them with that vicious inhuman snarl.

“Look!” Fuyuhiko shouts. “Up ahead! There’s a fire lookout tower! We gotta climb up there! If we do, we’ll be safe!”

“How do you know?!”

“JUST FUCKING TRUST ME!”

They clamor up the stairs, and it’s a wonder how he doesn’t somehow trip over his own feet in the chaos. Fuyuhiko makes it up the tower first, then Mahiru, then him, with Kazuichi bringing up the rear. Kazuichi slams the door shut behind him as though he believes that thin slab of wood will keep out a malevolent ghost.

Hajime collapses against the wall, panting heavily. He’s tired of running, tired of being chased, of being scared, _everything._ There’s a tragic irony in here somewhere; he came here to escape his home and now he’d give anything just to go back.

“How did you know we’d be safe up here, Kuzuryuu?” Mahiru asks, still catching her breath.

“W-Well… She died from falling, right? So she’s probably scared of heights… That’s all.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would a _ghost_ be scared of heights?” Kazuichi barks.

“If _you_ wanna go down there and prove me wrong, fuckin’ be my guest.”

“Guys! Aren’t we missing somebody?”

“Not again…” Hajime groans. “For _once,_ can we all just stick together? For _once?!_ _FOR ONCE?!_ _”_

They all run back out of the tower room and clamor around the railing. Nagito is running to catch up with them, still looking insanely calm despite everything that should suggest otherwise. It’s what’s behind him that fills their hearts with terror. There’s a tidal wave of white fog chasing after him, growing closer and closer to their location. They can make out a face in the mist, twisted and gnarled, and Hajime knows that monstrous entity is Crying Peko-chan.

“Komaeda, hurry!”

Nagito makes it to the tower and starts to climb. Peko-chan collides with the base of the tower—just narrowly missing catching onto Nagito—and begins to circle it, snarling with fury. Hajime can’t see him anymore, but he can hear the pounding of his footsteps as he races up the stairs. One flight. Two flights. He’s going to make it. He can see him just out of their reach now. He’s going to—

—The last step on the stairway collapses under his weight.

He falls straight through the rotten wood, down where Peko-chan’s spirit awaits. “Ah… What rotten luck,” Nagito murmurs right before he is swallowed up by the angry white tide.

“KOMAEDA!!” Hajime shrieks, reaching out but far too late to stop it. Nagito is gone, just like Hiyoko, just like Ibuki. Swallowing back a sob, Hajime runs into the tower and slams the door shut behind him.

“What do we do?!” Kazuichi howls hysterically. “She’s out there, waiting for us!”

Hajime steps towards the center of the room, eyes focused on the floor, feeling oddly calmer than he’s felt all night. (Maybe this is what Nagito felt all that time.) “Komaeda had the right idea. We have to figure out what she wants if we want to survive. And I think I know somebody who could tell us what that is.” _No more playing games. No more running around. It’s time to put an end to all this._ “Kuzuryuu… you were the only one who knew about Crying Peko-chan being scared of heights. You didn’t like the story Mioda told, and you always address her in a familiar way.” Fuyuhiko starts to say something, but Hajime continues on before he can. “Not only that, but I noticed a pattern. Every time someone disappears, it’s not just from making eye contact or anything. It only happens after something happens to _you._ Like when Saionji was making fun of you. Or when Mioda pushed you over.” He stares at him resolutely. “Kuzuryuu… What do you know?”

Fuyuhiko seems to wilt, not only under the combined gaze of all three other people, but also from all the suspicious information laid out before him. He gapes like a fish for a few seconds before finally ducking his head in shame.

“… She was my best friend,” he says quietly. “Yes, I knew her, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? We spent almost everyday together. Hell, we did _everything_ together. Peko was the only person in the whole world who understood me completely. _Goddammit,_ she was my best friend, don’t you get it?” He punches a fist against the wall with restless energy. “When I found out what happened to her. I just… I couldn’t _handle_ it. We were supposed to grow up together, dammit, and she just _died._ How was I supposed to feel? And then they— And then she—”

Kazuichi, unable to stay quiet any longer, points an accusing finger in Fuyuhiko’s direction. “That settles it! Kuzuryuu summoned Crying Peko-chan!”

“Don’t call her that!” Fuyuhiko barks.

“If it wasn’t Komaeda, it has to be Kuzuryuu who summoned her! He’s the only one who knew Crying Peko-chan!”

“I said don’t fuckin’ call her that! And I wasn’t the one who summoned her!”

“Stop it! Fighting won’t help us figure out what she wants!” Hajime says.

“Oh, yeah, that’s a great idea. Let’s try and reason with a freggin’ ghost!” Kazuichi says sarcastically. “She wants to kill us because we saw her cry! Is that enough reason for you?!”

“That may be so, but if what Kuzuryuu is saying is true, then Peko’s spirit is just holding some sort of grudge. She still recognizes Kuzuryuu for who he is. It makes sense, they were really close. A friendship like that lasts forever, even in death.”

“I’ve got news for you, Hinata. _That ain’t Kuzuryuu’s friend anymore._ She’s a malicious, creepy, murdering demon!”

Fuyuhiko abruptly grabs Kazuichi by the collar and shakes him violently. “What did I say? _What did I say?!_ YOU WANNA MAKE FUN OF HER AGAIN, ASSHOLE?! I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU—”

“That’s just what you’d want, isn’t it?! That’s why you summoned her in the first place!! YOU JUST WANTED TO KILL US ALL!!”

“YOU GODDAMN PIECE OF SHIT—”

“Knock it off, you two!” Hajime chokes, trying to get in between them. “Come on! We can’t keep fighting with each other like this!!”

Fuyuhiko manages to shove Kazuichi against door. It bursts open on its rusted hinges and he slams against the railing. He growls, rearing back to lunge at the other boy, but he is physically stopped before he can do so.

Two white arms grapple around his shoulders like hooks. With clawed hands, Peko-chan catches hold of him over the railing, trying to pull him down to his misty demise. “H-Help!!” Kazuichi wails, throwing out an arm desperately before he can be dragged away.

Hajime’s mind goes blank, but he knows he has to save him. He launches himself at Kazuichi, managing to catch hold of his shirt and one of his arms. Mahiru is just milliseconds behind him, grabbing hold too.

Even with the combined efforts of the three of them fighting against her, Peko-chan pulls with supernatural strength. At the corner of his eye, he sees Fuyuhiko is off to the side, quivering, but making no move to assist. “Kuzuryuu, help us!” he pleads.

“P-Peko…” Fuyuhiko whimpers, frozen on the spot.

Hajime lets out a frustrated growl. Fuyuhiko isn’t going to be any help, but he doesn’t have the _time_ to dwell on that right now. “Koizumi, whatever you do, don’t make eye contact!”

Beside him, Mahiru sniffles, “But Hinata… What do we do…? _She’s crying all over…”_

That’s when he sees them. The gaping wounds all over her body streaming with blood like runny tears. Once he witnesses the sorrow marring her body, it’s impossible not to look into her eyes. The fierce blood-red of her irises stands out stark against what are supposed to be the whites of her eyes, now as pitch black as midnight. Bloody tears run down her cheeks in a never-ending stream. Her face is twisted, malformed and grotesque, belonging far more to a beast than a human. He can see every angry crease upon her brow, the corners of her eyes, the bridge of her nose. Her lips are curled into an ugly snarl, baring two rows of razor-sharp teeth. She no longer looks like a ghostly little girl with her pallid features and dainty form, but a demonic, monstrous version of her past self.

The more they pull, the more Peko’s claws dig into Kazuichi’s skin, marking his flesh with long, bloody gashes. Kazuichi howls in a tortured combination of agony and fear. Hajime feels his strength steadily slipping away and Peko shows no sign of letting go. They’re fighting a losing battle against a vengeful spirit.

“Don’t let go of me! Don’t let go—!” Kazuichi pleads.

He wants to reassure him. He wants to tell him that everything is going to be okay, that they’re going to save him, but the words won’t form, and he knows why. _Because he’d be lying._ Peko roars and gives one last powerful tug and the fabric of Kazuichi’s shirt slips through his fingers. Kazuichi tumbles backwards over the railing, held fast in Peko’s claws, screaming for help. Just like Nagito, he disappears through the white fog, never to be heard from again.

Hajime stumbles back into the lookout tower and tries to remember how to breathe. In, out. In, out. Mahiru collapses onto her knees, knuckles riding along her bottom lip. “But… We were… We were supposed to be safe up here!”

“She’s too angry now. Peko’s negative energy is consuming her fear. All she wants to do is kill,” Hajime hisses regretfully. “It won’t be long before she takes the rest of us too. We have to figure out how to appease her spirit.”

Fuyuhiko is still silent, staring blankly at nothing in particular. His eyes are far away, just like Ibuki’s had been. This must be what it’s like to be face-to-face with so much sorrow.

Emotions reach a boiling point and his legs finally give up beneath him. Hajime collapses onto his hands and knees and beats his fist against the ground. This stupid night. That stupid story. _Why didn’t he just stay at home?_

At the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of Mahiru’s digital camera on the ground. In the chaos, it’s somehow been clicked on, presenting to him one of the images she’s taken on the digital screen. It’s a photo of the writing on the cave wall. _Peko-chan, show_ _me_ _your eyes._

But one thing doesn’t make sense.

Hajime picks up the camera and holds it up to his face. “Koizumi… When did you take this photo?”

Mahiru’s head snaps up. She sees what he has in his hands and makes an aborted attempt at snatching back the camera, but seems to catch herself at the last second. “I-I took it while we were in the cave. You must not have noticed.”

“But that’s impossible. Your lens was cracked before we were even there. There’s no way you could have taken a clear shot like this, unless…” He locks eyes with Mahiru and the realization settles in. “Koizumi. It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one who summoned Peko-chan.”

Fuyuhiko looks up.

Mahiru is silent. She has her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying at it. Her gaze goes to the floor. “I wanted to make amends…”

A million thoughts swirl around his head, threatening to break his composure. Is this what she wanted? What was all this for? What about all that talk about being friends? All he can manage is a single word: “Why?”

“My childhood friend… She was one of the kids who bullied Peko-chan. Even though I knew what they were doing, even though I knew it was wrong, I pretended I couldn’t see. I was too scared to say something before it was too late.” She scrubs her arm across her eyes hastily. “I was just a kid back then. We all were. And then they just… died. One by one. I thought Peko-chan had finally gotten her revenge, but then I heard all the stories about people seeing her ghost wandering around. She’s still sad. She’s still angry. So while I was going through some online forums, I learned how to summon her… I wanted to make amends and put her spirit to rest. For everyone’s sake.”

Fuyuhiko, who up until then has been silent, scrambles to his feet and yanks Mahiru up by her collar. “You _—_ You _knew_ and you did nothing about it _—_!!” he seethes.

“—It was an accident! They didn’t mean for her to die!”

He shakes her violently, rage and anger dripping from his every pore. “You think I care about that?! _You think that makes things better?!_ Peko’s _dead!_ _THEY KILLED HER!!”_

“Guys—” Hajime calls weakly.

“Kuzuryuu, I’m sorry—”

“I hope she takes you—”

“ _Guys—”_

“ _I HOPE SHE KILLS YOU TOO—”_

“WOULD YOU TWO JUST SHUT UP!?” he screams. “Do you hear that?”

Silence.

Up until that point, the air has been filled with that metallic, guttural wailing, like a nightmare that refuses to go away. But now… nothing. Not even the chirping of crickets. It’s like all the sound has been sucked away.

“She’s… gone?” Mahiru breathes.

“… That doesn’t seem right,” Hajime mutters, eyes scanning around the room. “I don’t like this…”

A white hand breaks through the floorboards, grabs hold of Mahiru’s ankle, and yanks her down. Mahiru shrieks as her lower-half is forcibly pulled through the floor. She throws out her arms and desperately claws at the floorboards. Hajime launches himself across the floor on his belly to catch hold of Mahiru’s wrists. The splintered wood creaks and groans, digging into Mahiru’s stomach painfully. The floor sinks where Mahiru is being dragged down, and belatedly Hajime fears the tower may split in two and send all of them crumbling into the hands of Peko below.

“Hinata!” she screams.

He feels that supernatural force working against him again, just like it had with Kazuichi, and his first thought is he can’t win. Peko is too strong, too angry.

Across the room, he can see Fuyuhiko huddled in the corner. In a last-ditch effort, he shouts, “Kuzuryuu, you have to forgive Koizumi!”

Fuyuhiko shoots him an incredulous look. “Is this really the time for that?!”

“Yes, it is!! Peko’s spirit won’t rest until you forgive her!”

“What does that have to do with anything?!”

Mahiru lets out another strangled cry. He tightens his grip around her wrists even as the sweat begins to slick his palms. “Kuzuryuu, listen to me! You can move on tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, but Peko… Peko’s a ghost! She doesn’t _have_ a tomorrow anymore, just a yesterday that never ends! You need to give her what she wants!”

Down below, he can hear Peko hiss and snarl, hungry for blood and revenge. The tower quakes on its old supports, threatening to collapse from one well-aimed smash.

“Kuzuryuu, just _look_ at what your friend has become! Do you want her to keep suffering like this for all eternity?!”

He can feel his grip weakening, the feel of Mahiru slipping away. She must feel it too because she locks eyes with him, and he can see the look of a girl accepting her fate. “Hinata…” she says, smiling weakly. “Thanks for everything.”

“Koizumi…” he sobs, tears welling up in his eyes. “Koizumi!”

If he loses another one of his friends he doesn’t know what he’ll do anymore. Everyday, something is taken away from him, and he can’t let it happen again. They can’t take her away too. This can’t be the end. He’d rather die, JUST TAKE HIM INSTEAD—

“KOIZUMI, I FORGIVE YOU!”

Peko lets out a mighty roar like she’s in pain.

The quaking of the tower stops and the supernatural force holding onto Mahiru disappears.

Hajime’s gaze snaps to Fuyuhiko. He’s standing there, breathing hard, hands clenched at his sides, like it’s taken some herculean effort just to get the words out of his mouth. Quickly, he remembers about Mahiru and pulls her up through the floor, mindful of the sharp edges of the splintered wood.

“… Is it over?”

The air is filled with nothing but the sounds of the night.

Mahiru looks to Fuyuhiko, who looks a cross between sheepish and annoyed. She smiles. “Kuzuryuu… Thank yo—”

In a shower of splinters and rotten wood, Peko bursts through the hole in the floor, roaring and wailing. She snatches Mahiru up, hands curling around her hair and waist. She disappears as quickly as she came, crashing back through the hole with her prey in her clutches, and Mahiru’s scream is nothing short of bloodcurdling.

“KOIZUMI!!” Hajime screams and screams until his vocal cords are hoarse.

The rumbling of the tower starts again, bigger and more powerful than it was before. The guttural, metallic howling is back like a siren ringing in his ear. Fuyuhiko catches onto the edge of the door frame to keep himself upright. “But I forgave Koizumi! What else does she want?!”

“I don’t know! Try and think! She was your friend!”

“I don’t— I don’t know!”

The hole in the center of the tower grows larger and larger, pieces of the wood breaking off and falling below. The floor sags becoming nothing more than precarious incline. The tower’s going to collapse any second now. The whole place rumbles with one more forceful quake, and Hajime loses his balance, sliding across the floor towards the hole. “Shit!!” He manages to catch onto one of the floorboards at just the last second before he falls completely through. He looks over his shoulder. Below is a swirling vortex of white, like the fading of dreams, like the drainage of all the world’s hope, and he hangs precariously over it. Peko bursts forth from the center of the vortex and grabs hold of his ankle, tightening her claws in a vice-like grip. Oh god, she’s _cold._ “Kuzuryuu! Do something!! PLEASE—”

Fuyuhiko looks between him and Peko, back and forth, trembling. He swallows hard, edging closer to the hole where Hajime is dangling for his life. “PEKO!” he yells into the abyss. “Peko, you have to stop!” Peko still holds on tightly onto Hajime’s ankle, roaring that tortured sound. She makes no other response, no indication that she hears him. “Listen to me! This isn’t right!”

He feels the claws worming under his skin like five fiery needle points. Warm blood gushes down his leg. “KUZURYUU, HURRY—”

Fuyuhiko edges closer to the hole. “Peko, it’s okay to be sad! It’s okay to be scared! That doesn’t make you weak! But what you’re doing right now… Trying to keep us from seeing, trying to hide how much you hurt… _It’s just hurting you more!!”_

The grip around his leg wavers—

—and then disappears altogether.

When he looks down, Peko is gone. Instead she materializes standing in the tower, looking just like a child again and not that nightmarish form. She tips her head back, revealing her eyes behind a curtain of hair.

“Fuyuhiko?” she whispers.

He lets out a long exhale. “Yeah, Peko… it’s me…”

Peko doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. She simply stares up at the friend she hasn’t seen for years. Suddenly, it’s as if nobody else in the universe exists but these two, brought back together after being cruelly torn apart.

“You need to let go of your anger now. I know it’s scary. I’ve been too scared to grow up without you this whole time. But it’s time to move on. Let everybody go.”

Tears stream down her face, no longer bitter and bloody, but pure and clear. Fuyuhiko reaches out and wipes them away with his thumb, ignoring how cold her skin is. “No more tears, okay?” he says, smiling even as his own tears begin to form at the corner of his eyes. Peko’s bottom lip quivers, but she returns the smile and nods. “I promise you… I’ll see you again soon.”

Peko bows her head and breathes a sigh. It’s simple, nothing more than a puff of air, but it means so much more. It means finally understanding the passing of time. It means giving in. It means letting go. From beneath the moonlight, Peko’s spirit begins to fade, white wisps floating off into the air like fireflies. Like everything before her, she returns to the earth, at peace.

With a heavy heart, Fuyuhiko watches the last shimmering vestiges of Peko disappear into the night. “Goodbye, Peko…”

Hajime struggles to pull himself back up the tower, kicking up with his legs to get some sort of leverage. A hand appears in his field of vision, flesh and blood. “Hinata, grab my hand,” Fuyuhiko hollers. He grabs hold and climbs back up.

For a long moment, they simply sit in the wreckage of the lookout tower, bruised, bloody, and battered. The nightmare is over and neither of them really knows what to do or say. Like Nagito said, they are the survivors emerging from the darkness. He’s contemplating the events of the night, all the mistakes and sacrifices and miscommunications that happened along the way, when in the distance they hear a voice calling out, “Hinata? Are you there?”

They exchange surprised looks. As Hajime looks through the gaping hole in the center of the tower, he sees all their friends standing below—Hiyoko, Ibuki, Kazuichi, Nagito, Mahiru, _everyone_ —looking up at them.

“Koizumi… Mioda… You guys are okay!” he sobs, tears springing to his eyes.

Nagito smiles that enigmatic smile of his and shrugs. “It looks like my luck is finally turning around.”

To his left, Fuyuhiko picks himself up off his feet, dazedly walking towards the ruined stairs on tired legs. He watches for a second—seeing his classmate in a new light for once—and calls after him, “Hey, Kuzuryuu… Are you okay?”

Fuyuhiko stops and looks up at white shining moon like he sees something there on the rocky surface. “I will be,” he says.

 

* * *

 

When asked where they’d been between when they’d been captured and when they reappeared, everybody replied that their memories were blank. It was as though they’d been floating in a blinding white purgatory, waiting to be released. The mystery of Peko-chan’s victims would forever remain a mystery.

Everyone is gathered back around the van. Hajime digs out his phone from his backpack and is relieved to see it working again. He punches in the third speed dial and waits for the line to connect. “Ayame?”

“Hajime! Are you okay? Why haven’t you been returning my calls?! Do you know what time it is?!”

“Yeah, sorry… Me and my friends kinda lost track of time, and then I lost reception so I couldn’t get your calls, but we’re heading home now. I’ll help you and dad unpack everything tomorrow.” He takes a deep breath and expels it all in one long exhale. “And then I think we have some things to talk about.”

“Really?” Ayame sounds surprised, but not angry. “Okay. Just get home safe, okay?”

“I will. See you soon.” He ends the call just as Fuyuhiko jams his key in the ignition.

“Please work, please work, please work,” Kazuichi chants, hands clasped together.

The engine roars to life.

“We have liftoff!” Ibuki whoops.

“I call shotgun!”

“No fair! You got shotgun on the way here!”

“Worthless trash like me will sit in the back, of course…”

Hiyoko and Kazuichi continue to fight over who gets to ride shotgun. Hajime can’t help but smile as he watches his friends’ antics. They’re a bunch of clowns for sure, but they’re _his_ bunch of clowns.

“Hinata, get in already,” Fuyuhiko says from the driver’s seat.

“Huh? Me?”

“You see any other Hinatas around here? Just get in, all right?”

He looks back and forth between his friends and the door and climbs into the passenger seat without a second thought.

“What? No fair! Why is Hinata sitting in the front? I called shotgun!” Hiyoko whines.

“You snooze, you fucking lose. Now get your asses in the car.”

They pile all their belongings in the back of the van, the backpacks and purses and half-finished bags of candy and marshmallows. Hajime buckles up in his seat.

“Careful, the seat belt sticks. And would you stop singing that stupid fuckin’ song, Mioda?! It’s past midnight!”

They pull out onto the road, steadily making their way back to town. Only when they pass by the town welcome sign do they release the breaths they’d been holding.

It’s finally over.

Fuyuhiko drops everybody off one by one. They make sure to watch everyone safely making it through their doors before moving on to the next house. Mahiru is the second-to-last to be dropped off at her place. She throws a smile over her shoulder as she climbs out of the van.

“See you in class on Monday, Hinata.”

Then it’s just him and Fuyuhiko left in the van.

“I should probably call my sister to come pick me up or something. I can wait at the police station or something, it’s right around the corner.” He moves to take off his seat belt, but Fuyuhiko stops him with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t be an idiot, Hinata. It’s the middle of the night. I’ll drive you home.”

He settles back into the seat and offers an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Kuzuryuu. That’s real nice of you.”

“Yeah, well don’t write home about it or nothin’.”

A solemn air settles over the car, but it doesn’t feel awkward or suffocating anymore. It’s actually… comfortable. Hajime has to take the time to acknowledge the absurdity of the night’s events. If somebody had told him Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu would be treating him nicely and driving him home before that night, he’d have laughed in their face. _But,_ he admits, _once he opens up, Kuzuryuu’s_ _actually_ _a pretty decent guy._

Maybe moving to this place wasn’t such a bad idea after-all.

He watches the streetlights whiz by like a light show, counting how many lamps separate his and Mahiru’s house. “You know… Peko was really young when she died. She didn’t understand what she was doing. Otherwise I don’t think she would’ve done it.”

Fuyuhiko peers at him from the corner of his eye, looking neither annoyed nor sad, only accepting. “I think you’re right. Peko never wanted to hurt anybody.” He lets out a slow exhale. “To be honest, out of the two of us, _I_ was the one who cried all the time.”

“No way,” Hajime says, gaping dramatically.

Fuyuhiko snorts. “Yeah, yeah. Shut your mouth before you start catching flies. By the way, if you tell anybody what I told you, I’ll deny it, and then I’ll have you shipped overseas.”

 

* * *

 

“ _Peko, you have to stop! They’re going to keep messing with you unless you— unless—”_

 _She rounded on him, jaw set like it always was when she’d undergone yet another round of schoolyard abuse. “I’m_ not _going to cry, Fuyuhiko. If I do, they’ll bother you even more and I don’t want that.”_

_His eyes roved over the fresh cuts on her fingers, the bruise on her elbow, courtesy of those rotten kids shoving Peko into a rain ditch on their way home from school. Just the thought of Peko defiantly staring up at her tormentors even as she lay there bloody and bruised was enough to make Fuyuhiko crumple into tears again. He didn’t know why he was like this, why every little thing affected him so much, but he knew that Peko was the most important person in his life and he didn’t want to see her hurt. He rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, praying to any god that would listen that he could be as strong as Peko deserved. “If only I didn’t— If I wasn’t such a—”_

_Peko reached out and gripped his shoulder. “Stop. Don’t think like that anymore. You’re honest and I like that. You don’t have to change for the likes of them. One day, we’re going to grow up together and they won’t even matter anymore.” She smiled that small, secretive smile she only reserved for him, and whenever Peko smiled at him like that, Fuyuhiko always felt his tears dry away. “So until then, I’ll be brave for the both of us.”_

 

* * *

  

“That’s why she never cried. Because she wanted to protect me.”

“Oh… That was… really great of her.”

“Wasn’t it? Peko was always selfless like that. Always thought about me before she even thought about herself. But you know… I never agreed with her. I wanted her to take care of herself first. But she never listened to me.”

More silence.

“… You know,” Fuyuhiko says forlornly, “Mioda wasn’t totally accurate with her story.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… Peko wasn’t alone that night. I was there too.”

Hajime blinks, surprised. “You were?”

“Yeah. _I_ was the one they chased into a cave. Peko only came to rescue me, told them to mess with her instead. It was an offer they couldn’t refuse.”

 

* * *

 

“ _She’s still not crying? Seriously?”_

“ _You’re really starting to piss me off, Pekoyama. If you don’t cry soon, we’re going back to bullying your crybaby friend.”_

“ _Leave her alone! Stop it!” Fuyuhiko launched himself at the three kids hunched over Peko's fallen form, beating his fists against their backs, but they shrugged him off like an annoying pest. He was too small, too weak to take them all on._

“ _Hey! I just thought of something good!” Kaon, the biggest of the bunch, turned to him. “Kuzuryuu! We’ll stop bullying you if you do something to make Pekoyama cry.”_

“ _Wh-what?”_

_Before he knew it, three pairs of hands were grabbing at his sleeves and shoving him forward. “Go on! Make her cry!”_

_Peko stared up at him, clearly trying hard to keep her face an immovable mask, but he was far too familiar with her to not catch that crease of concern in her brow. “Fuyuhiko,” she breathed._

_He stood there trembling, hands clenched at his sides. He couldn’t possibly do anything to hurt his best friend, but if he didn’t do what they wanted, they would surely hurt her more. The dilemma had fresh tears springing to his eyes._

_Peko leapt to her feet and shot forward. She grabbed his hand, forced his fingers to fist around the front of her kimono. She stumbled backwards, grip still tight around his wrist, and he was helpless to do much else but follow her lead. He didn’t know what was happening. They were so close to the edge that one wrong step would surely be fatal._

“ _But we’re so high up…”_

“ _Hahaha! DO IT, KUZURYUU! DO IT!”_

_Peko stared at him right in the eyes. He stared back, terror and confusion so evident on his face._

“ _I— I ca—”_

“ _It’s all right, Fuyuhiko,” she whispered, right before letting go of his hand and pitching herself backwards over the ledge._

_Fuyuhiko screamed, belatedly groping out to catch her. The other kids rushed around him, clamoring to look at the damage._

“ _Did he just push her?!”_

“ _Is she still alive?”_

“ _I think so. She just hit the ledge.”_

_His breath hitched. Fuyuhiko hurried to where they were crowding and peered over the edge too. Peko had landed on an outcropping of rock a few meters below them. He saw the scrape of blood on her cheek and the twinge in her eyebrows like she was trying to force herself to cry. It occurred to him that this had been part of her plan. She was protecting him once again. Smart Peko. Brave Peko. Shakily, she stood up on both legs…_

… _The rock began to rumble._

_There was a crease of confusion in her brow, like she was trying to figure out where the sound had come from and what it meant, and he had barely any time to register what was happening when the ledge collapsed beneath Peko’s feet._

_For those agonizing split seconds, time seemed to slow. He was reaching for her, she was reaching for him, little fingers grasping for each other but too far away. They locked eyes, and Fuyuhiko swore he saw the exact moment when her expression morphed from feigned sadness to genuine shock._

_Distantly, he heard the sound of someone screaming; a pained, desperate wail like nothing he’d ever heard before. Only seconds later did he realize it was coming from his own throat._

“ _PEKO!! **PEKO!!!”**_

“ _Is she— she’s—”_

“ _It— It was just an accident!! We didn’t do anything, right?! It’s not our fault!”_

“ _Quick! We have to run!”_

_Fuyuhiko felt like his head was underwater, all of his senses dulled until everything mixed into a cacophony of colors and buzzing sounds. As the three kids ran out of the cave, the sound of feet slapping against the ground was only secondary to Peko coughing up blood._

“ _Peko! Peko, wait! I’m coming! Hold on just a bit longer! Please!!” He recklessly swung one leg over the ledge, trying to find some sort of purchase with his toes, but there was none. There was no way down, why was this happening, why—_

“ _D— Don’t…”_

_He froze. That gurgling, pained voice struck him like an arrow to his heart. He forced himself to look over the ledge again._

_There was so much blood, dripping on the ground, staining her robe and the tips of her hair. She was looking up at him behind half-lidded eyes, fingers weakly grasping at air with what little strength she has left. She was dying. Peko was dying right before of his eyes and he couldn’t do anything about it. From behind his tear-stained vision, he saw the corners of her lips—caked with blood—turn up into a smile._

“ _Don’t… c… cry…”_

 

* * *

  

“I ran to get help, but by the time police arrived, Peko was already long gone. After that, nobody bullied me or bothered me ever again.” Another solemn silence settles over the car. (What else is there to say?) Fuyuhiko lets out a hollow laugh. “She wasn’t crying. She was _smiling._ Can you believe it? Even when she was dying, her first thought was to make sure I didn’t cry.”

Fuyuhiko idly drums his fingers against the steering wheel, a rhythmic _tap-tap-tap-tap,_ over and over again. _Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap._ “So you know what I’ve decided?” he says airily, checking over his shoulder as he switches lanes. “I’ve decided… _I’m_ going to be the one who protects her now.”

In a moment of sharp clarity, Hajime realizes just how cold it is in the car. He thinks to ask Fuyuhiko to turn on the heater, but for some reason the words stick to his throat. Instead, he asks, “O-Oh…? How are you going to do that?”

Fuyuhiko glances at him, eyes glinting in the moonlight, and grins. “Easy. You’re going to help me.”

The temperature seems to drop another ten degrees. Hajime rubs at his arms to keep warm. Beads of sweat start to drip down his forehead; how can he be sweating when it’s so _cold?_ “Wh _—_ What do you mean?”

Fuyuhiko lets out a chuckle. “You don’t get it, do you? But I finally figured it out. This whole time, _Peko wasn’t scared._ Not when she was alive, not when she was dying, and not when she was dead. She never was. Not my brave Peko. She was just _stuck._ Waiting for me to free her. I guess you could even say… _she was waiting for a ride out.”_

It’s not just the car anymore. Hajime feels his blood run cold like he’s been frozen from the inside out. Suddenly the expression on Fuyuhiko’s face no longer looks friendly, it looks _sinister,_ eyes too crazed, teeth too prominent, lips stretched too wide.

“But, you know, it couldn’t be _me_ who gave her a ride out. Otherwise we couldn’t be together. So I got the next best thing.” Fuyuhiko turns away from the road to lock eyes with him, and Hajime can see just how unhinged he’s become. Hands shaking, he presses desperately at the latch on his seat belt, but no matter how hard he tries, it won’t come undone.

“Didn’t I tell you? The seat belt sticks.”

He tries for the door. It's child-locked.

“Open the door, Kuzuryuu,” Hajime says, hating the way his voice cracks.

“I can’t do that. Peko needs your flesh.” He says it with the air of somebody casually discussing the weather, and the juxtaposition between his words and his tone makes the bile rise in Hajime’s throat. “If it makes you feel any better, she’ll probably make it quick.”

“What do you mean?! What do you pl—” That’s when he hears it. The soft sound of weeping coming from the back of the van. He feels it again too, that terrible feeling of being watched like there are eyes on the back of his neck, and he fights every instinct he has to turn and look. “… You had this planned the whole time, didn’t you?” Hajime wheezes. “Koizumi learning the truth… The story… That place… Getting us all there… It was all your doing.”

“I have to admit, I didn’t expect Koizumi to summon Peko on her own. I was going to do it myself and just hide the evidence. And picking _you_ certainly wasn’t part of the plan either. Honestly, you were last pick on my list of vessels; that was the trickiest part, really. I wasn’t going to accept just anybody, but you pretty much proved you deserve to have Peko reborn inside you. You’re the only one who understands her. Though I’m gonna have to do something about the stains this will leave in the car once Peko is through with you.” Fuyuhiko goes back to drumming his fingers against the steering wheel again. _Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap._ It’s absolutely grating. The rhythmic tapping burrows into his skull like a goddamn drill. _Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap._

He wrestles with the seat belt, clawing at the strap until he thinks his fingernails are going to snap off, but the more he struggles, the tighter it gets. “Kuzuryuu, I didn’t do anything!” he howls. “You can’t do this to me! It’s… It’s unfair!”

The tapping stops, and somehow the ensuing silence is far worse than the noise ever was. “Unfair?” Fuyuhiko repeats, spitting out the word like a dirty insult. “You wanna know what’s _unfair?_ _Unfair_ is having your best friend taken away from you before you could even grow up together. _Unfair_ is watching all the kids responsible for her death walk away scot-free. _UNFAIR_ IS HEARING EVERYBODY MAKE UP THOSE STORIES ABOUT WHAT A MONSTER SHE IS WHEN THEY DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HER AT ALL. _THAT’S_ WHAT’S UNFAIR.”

The weeping grows louder like it’s attached to Fuyuhiko’s mounting rage. On instinct, Hajime slams his eyes shut. “Why are you doing this?! Koizumi apologized! You guys made amends!”

“Like I give a shit,” Fuyuhiko laughs, settling back against his seat. _Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap._ “Even after those bullies died one by one, I still wasn’t satisfied. That’s when I realized… There’s no replacing her. I never _wanted_ an apology. I just want Peko back. That’s all I ever wanted. It’s just like you said, Hinata. _A friendship like this lasts forever.”_

“ _That isn’t what I meant!!”_

“It’s no hard feelings or anything. But if given the choice between Peko or anybody else, I would choose Peko every time.” Fuyuhiko quirks a brow. “You understand, right?”

 _No,_ he wants to scream, _No no never never NO NO NO,_ but his tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth. The streetlights overhead flash by in a blur—he’s lost count of how many have gone by. The seat belt secures him in place like a constrictor, suffocating and unbearable. His breath comes out in misty vapors. This must be a dream, an awful nightmare. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, only to see that he’s still in the car with the terrible chill and the weeping in his ear. His heart hammers in his chest and it’s all too much. He wants to cry. He’s going to cry. He’s crying. _“_ _Please_ _…”_ he moans. “Don’t do this…”

“It’s too late. It’s already started. Just think about how much good you’re doing. Hi, Peko. You’re right on time.”

Hajime doesn’t know what possesses him to look in the rear view mirror, but he does and it’s too late to take it back. From the back seat, a pair of blood-red eyes stare into his soul, bloody tears, blood on her robes, _why is there so much blood._

“You’ve waited a really long time, haven’t you? Sorry I’m so late. I had so many things to take care of. But let’s be together again, from now on. Okay?”

The final moments of Hajime Hinata are but a blur of lights, sound, and pain, but he cannot see a thing behind the tears drowning his eyes.

 

* * *

 

_Hey. Listen._

_Have you heard the story of the New Kid on the Haunted Road?_

_He was an ordinary kid like you and me. Just moved into town too. Nobody really thought much about him, neither good nor bad. Nobody even remembers his name. But there was a terrible accident on the highway. The road was too slippery or something, and he was never able to make it back to his house. They never even found his body._

_They say on dark and stormy nights like these you can see him on the side of the road, begging for someone to give him a ride home…_


	3. Epilogue

There’s a stain on the ceiling of the car. An old yellowing stain of unknown origins, darker around the edges and shaped vaguely like a rabbit. Fuyuhiko watches it from the corner of his eye with detached curiosity as he waits for the traffic light to change. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat with his elbow resting against the door and his cheek propped up against his fist. It’s sort of ridiculous that he’s stuck at a red light when there’s nobody else on the street. He could just speed through if he wanted, but he’s in no rush. He lets out a huge yawn. Fuck, it’s really late. He should have been in bed hours ago, not that anybody at home would miss him or anything. The light’s still red. He exhales through his nose slowly, tapping his foot to an unspecified rhythm as a means of entertaining himself while his classmate is being torn apart from the inside out.

He doesn’t watch; it seems rude to do so. All he can hear are the sounds of bones popping and flesh ripping and the strangled, pained moans that follow. Blood flecks across his cheek, warm and runny. He can’t imagine it feels nice to be torn apart from the inside out, but it’ll be over in a second if he’s just patient. (And he’s been biding his time for over ten years.)

Only when the strangled screams die out into silence does he finally look to his left. Peko sits in the passenger seat as fresh and whole as the day he met her. The only difference is she’s no longer a child but rather the same age as him. (The age she _would’ve_ been.) She’s naked and covered in blood and looking so much like a Botticelli painting with the way her hair cascades over her shoulders to cover her breasts and he’s suddenly sharply aware of how lucky he is to have this second chance with her. He grabs the jacket from the back seat and carefully drapes it across her lap to keep her warm.

“Got your seat belt on?” he asks, smiling.

She returns the smile and nods.

“Careful. It sticks.”

The light turns green. Fuyuhiko wipes off a spot of blood splattered on the windshield so it won’t obscure his view of the road. He’ll wash the interior later, hose it down from top to bottom so there’s no evidence of the night’s events, just a few memories they’ll easily forget.

It’s time to go home.

 

* * *

 

“Stand… Bow… Sit…”

Ibuki plops down into her chair once Chiaki leads them through the morning homeroom introductions. Another day, another chance for a wonderful adventure. Yukizome-sensei sets down her notebook on the front desk, looking positively effervescent (more so than normal, even), and already Ibuki is feeling pumped. Something good is going to happen today, she just knows it.

“Everyone, we have a new transfer student joining our class today!” Yukizome-sensei says cheerily. “Pekoyama, please come on in!”

In walks a girl with blood red eyes and silvery hair tied into two pretty braids. Immediately the class erupts in whispers and murmurs. Their new classmate possesses an elegant and subtly fierce aura with the way she walks and holds herself, and Ibuki already knows she’s going to be a wonderful addition to their class.

The girl bows primly. “Hello. I am Peko Pekoyama. I’m very pleased to meet you all.”

“Pekoyama will be with us until graduation,” says Yukizome-sensei, writing their new classmate’s name on the board. “She’s been living overseas until very recently and will need some help getting reacquainted here in Hope’s Peak. I know you all will do your very best to make her feel right at home, so let’s help her out, all right?”

Yukizome-sensei directs her to the empty desk behind Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu. Fuyuhiko follows Peko with his eyes and turns around to give her a discreet smile when she takes her seat.

(Ibuki raises her eyebrows in interest. She’ll have to ask about that later.)

To her right, Mahiru appears to be rather distracted. She keeps looking back and forth between the door and the windows and tapping her finger against her chin, like she’s searching for something. “Mahiru, what are you looking for?” Ibuki asks.

“Huh?” Mahiru blinks. “Oh, nothing. It’s just… I get the strange feeling I was waiting for something today.”

“Like déjà vu? Did you have a psychic dream about Peko becoming our new classmate or something like that?”

Mahiru shakes her head. “No, that’s not it… Not quite…” She looks down at her desk, appearing deep in thought, before snapping herself out of her reverie. “Ah, nevermind. It’s probably nothing important.”

 

* * *

 

Fall bleeds into winter. Exams manage to suck the energy out of just about everybody, and by the end of it, the class looks absolutely exhausted. Some more so than others, if their exam scores are anything to go by. Which means it’s up to Ibuki to lift everyone’s spirits again.

“Ibuki proposes a test of courage before the winter holidays!” she announces during break, planting a foot on her chair and pointing a determined finger skyward.

“Huh? Are you serious? That’s such a weird way to start the holidays,” Hiyoko grouches.

“No it’s not! Think of it like getting rid of all your fears before New Year’s Day! We could go to that place everybody’s been talking about! You know, the story of the New Kid on the Haunted Road?”

“Whaaa—?! Y-You mean with the g-g-g-ghost? B-B-But what it something happens to us?!” Mikan sputters, chewing on her fingernails.

“Don’t _worry!_ Nothing’s going to happen if Ibuki’s there to protect everyone!” Her fellow classmates still don’t look entirely convinced so she amps up the energy a notch. “Come on, guys, think about how much more this will bond us together! Class 77-A, facing down the terror of ghosts head-on! By the time we come back from winter break, we’ll be a beacon of hope for the rest of the school!”

“I like the way you think, Mioda,” says Nagito. “If everyone else agrees, then I’d like to join.”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to participate in a Japanese test of courage! Please count me in as well!” Sonia says enthusiastically, eyes shining.

“If Miss Sonia’s going, I’m going too!”

“Me too!”

“I-I-If everyone else doesn’t mind, then I’d like to go t-too…”

Mahiru grins. “Well, I’m up for it. Who knows! It could be fun.”

“Big Sis Mahiru, you too?” Hiyoko whines, looking dismayed. “… I guess I’ll go too…” she finally mutters, crossing her arms and puffing her cheeks.

“Should we invite Pekoyama and Kuzuryuu too?”

Ibuki looks over to the pair in question. Fuyuhiko sits turned around in his chair facing Peko, who has a vacation magazine spread open on her desk. Since their new classmate first arrived, Fuyuhiko and Peko have been practically attached at the hip. She’s amazed at how their surly, prickly classmate has opened up so much more around Peko. True, he’s still prickly and he still calls them fun names like “shitheads” or “bastards,” but the change in the boy is undeniable. He smiles more often, laughs more often, and actually participates in some of their school outings. (It makes sense. Fuyuhiko says Peko was his best friend who moved far away when they were still kids, but now she’s come back to Hope’s Peak City to stay. It’s like a classic tale of lovers reunited.)

“I think we should!” Ibuki chirps with a nod before bounding over to the couple. “Peko, we’re going to have a test of courage before winter break! You know the one about the ghost on the haunted road? It’ll be fun! Do you want to join us? Fuyuhiko, you can come too, of course!”

Peko and Fuyuhiko exchange a Look. Look, with a capital “L,” because in that short moment they seem to hold a silent conversation that Ibuki can’t follow.

It’s Peko who ends up answering. “No, thank you,” she says politely. “I can’t handle scary stuff like that.”

 

* * *

 

Everyday after school, Fuyuhiko and Peko walk home together. There’s hardly a moment where one isn’t without the other. Even if Fuyuhiko has after-school clean-up duty, even if Peko has club activities, the other is always waiting for him or her to finish. It doesn’t matter what the reason is. What matters is they have each other. (Something they’ll never take for granted ever again.)

One day, as they wait for the crosswalk light to change on their way home from school, Peko nudges Fuyuhiko gently and points. Across the street, a young woman is struggling to haul a stack of cardboard boxes to her car. They hurry over to help her; Fuyuhiko quickly grabs the other end of the box the women isn’t holding and Peko catches one that tumbles from the top of the stack.

“Thanks,” the woman says, looking exhausted.

“Can we help, miss?” Peko asks, still holding onto the box.

The woman looks them up and down, probably assessing how trustworthy they might be and the possibility of being accosted, but the sight of the two perfectly innocent-looking youths has her relaxing. “Oh, how polite of you kids.” (Peko puts her hand on Fuyuhiko’s shoulder when he visibly bristles at being called a kid.) “That would be really helpful. The elevator’s broken, and I have to go down two flights of stairs with these things.”

Together, the three of them haul the boxes one by one to the woman’s car. When they’re finished, the woman slams the trunk of her car closed and wipes the sweat off her brow.

“Are you moving away, miss?”

“No, I’ve lived here since I started university. It’s my dad. He moved here a couple months ago, but we just found a bunch of boxes that were never unpacked. We don’t even remember owning any of this stuff… There’s no room left in the apartment, so we’re donating it.” She scratches the back of her head. “Oh! Sorry, I lost track of myself. I’m Ayame Hinata, by the way.”

Peko looks to Fuyuhiko, and Fuyuhiko looks to Peko.

She flashes him that small, secretive smile she’s always so good at pulling off. Fuyuhiko shakes his head and lets out a small huff of laughter, the corners of his lips turning up. “We have to get going now,” Peko says. She bows politely at the waist, holding it there for a few seconds like one might expect for an apology. Fuyuhiko bows too, and for a moment, Ayame looks bewildered. “It was nice meeting you. Good luck, Miss Hinata.”

Ayame blinks. “Oh. Sure. Thanks for your help!”

She watches the pair scurry down the street hand-in-hand and smiles. “What a bunch of nice kids.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos are greatly appreciated.
> 
> If you liked what you read, please consider following me on my tumblr for future stories, artwork, and more. Also make sure to follow my "#Cry" tag for possible future art and snippets set in the same 'verse. Check it out @ thewildwilds.tumblr.com


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